


The Truth Will Out

by FallenQueen2, RisingQueen2 (FallenQueen2)



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Don't copy to another site, Forced to Kneel, Gen, Grabbed by the Chin, If you want - Freeform, Jesus was Malcolm Bright, Kids love Paul, Malcolm Bright is Jesus, Negan is around, Tom Payne can sing therefore so can Paul/Malcolm, Whump, and he loves them right back, canon-level violence, glenn and abraham live because happiness!, he didn't kill anyone though, kidnapped Paul/Malcolm, pre- Daryl/Jesus/Rick, spoilers for up to episode 11 of Prodigal Son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22214653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenQueen2/pseuds/FallenQueen2, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenQueen2/pseuds/RisingQueen2
Summary: Jesus thought he had left his past as Malcolm Bright buried in the remains of New York. He thought wrong.Bad Things Happen Bingo:Square Filled in Chapter 1: Forced to KneelSquare Filled in Chapter 7: Grabbed By The Chin
Relationships: Daryl Dixon & Jesus, Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes/Jesus, Jesus & Carl Grimes, Jesus & Rick Grimes, Malcolm Bright & Martin Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Paul Lazar | John Watkins
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566064
Comments: 22
Kudos: 122
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to lie. I have never and don't plan on watching the Walking Dead. However, I am addicted to Tom Payne and damn him as Jesus? A++ So I spent a whole night instead of sleeping watching his parts of TWD, looking at pic's, Wiki pages and fanfictions and decided to give a little crossover a shot.

Jesus hated how routine scouting missions had gotten, he hated how he had fallen into some resemblance of comfort as he raided empty houses and stores with the safe, protective presences of Rick and Daryl at his sides. Jesus hated that they were so focused on finding supplies and avoiding walkers that they had forgotten to keep their guards up for normal people.

Jesus kept his hands held up in the classic surrendering position as he was jabbed forward by the muzzle of a gun. Jesus’ eyes darted to the side, something settling in his chest at the sight of Daryl and Rick in the same position as he was. They were missing their weapons, but Jesus could feel the small weight of his handgun pressing against the small of his back where it was tucked into the back of his jeans. 

“Down!” One of the men barked, but when the three men didn’t comply fast enough for them. Rick and Daryl grunted as their captor’s forced them down onto their knees. Jesus grunted at the sudden pain that came from the back of his knees and he soon followed his friends down onto the ground. 

“Didn’t I say not to hurt that one?” An old, familiar voice rang out and Jesus felt horror course though his whole being.

“No, no that’s not possible,” Jesus, whispered unable to stop himself. Rick and Daryl exchanged looks as they watched all the colour in Jesus’ face drain away and fear dance in Jesus’ bright eyes as a man with salt and pepper curly hair and matching beard walked out in front of them. 

“Even with that horrendous beard and hair, I would recognize my boy anywhere.” The man smiled widely, looking on the wrong side of sanity. Jesus’ arms dropped down to his side and his right hand began to shake before he curled it into a tight fist.

“This isn’t possible, you died.” Jesus’ voice shook just like his hand, he sounded younger than ever and terrified. Rick and Daryl traded concerned looks; they had never seen Jesus anything but confident and strong. 

Whoever this man was had a past with their friend from Hilltop and it wasn’t a good one. Their anger at being caught was only increasing at seeing Jesus being brought into such a state by this single man, even when Jesus faced Negan he never showed this kind of fear. 

“Ah yes, well the outbreak did put a crimp in my escape plans but overall it worked to my advantage. Once I heard that you were alive, I knew I had to find you.” The man stepped closer to Jesus who flinched back before he steadied himself and tipped his head up to look the man dead in the eyes. 

“I let my past die, why can’t you?” Jesus asked, voice shaking and his bright eyes darting over to Rick and Daryl who both were watching him intently. 

“You let your past die? Oh, my boy, I will never truly leave you.” The man said condescendingly and Jesus’ body began to tremble from where he was down on his knees. 

“After all, what kind of father would I be if I did that?” The man hummed as he cupped Jesus’ cheek. Both Daryl and Rick jolted and looked at each other quickly before focusing back on Jesus whose eyes were shut and he was visibly shaking against his father’s hand. 

“Now say goodbye to your friends, we have so much to do son. It’s been too long since we worked together.” Jesus’ father crooned in a sickeningly sweet voice that made Daryl want to smash his hand into the man’s face. 

“No, no. I won’t go with you, I won’t help you kill people.” Jesus whispered as his eyes flew open, burning bright with anger now and he jerked his face away from his father’s hand.

“Ah so rebellious, don’t worry son. I’ll break you of that in due time.” The man laughed like Jesus had told him an amusing joke. Daryl had to smother a snarl, he had heard that line numerous times throughout his life and fury raged in his veins at the thought of Jesus being put through that. 

“I’ll die before that happens Dr. Whitly.” Jesus spat out and something like fury crossed Dr. Whitly’s face before he smoothed it out and straightened up. A stone settled in the pit of Rick’s stomach before all of this happened. Before the outbreak, before the walkers, every cop station in every town had been made aware of Doctor Martin Whitly, the serial killer known as the Surgeon. It had been nothing short of a horror story and Rick had to fight the urge to snatch Jesus away from that man who was standing far too close to their friend. 

“You were always so stubborn my boy, resistance to what both John and I tried to teach you.” Martin shook his head in disappointment.

“Teach? Do you mean when he kidnapped and tortured me? When you played mind games with me? That isn’t teaching! That was manipulation and pain.” Jesus’ voice rose as he spoke and Rick managed to nudge Daryl’s knee in silent communication. Daryl’s fingers twitched telling Rick he understood, but his eyes never left Jesus. 

Both men were silently raging at what was being revealed about Jesus’ past, kidnapping and torture? Somehow Jesus had made it through that and the damn apocalypse proving to both Rick and Daryl that Jesus was much stronger than they gave him credit for. 

“It’s all how you look at it son, but we’ve wasted enough time. Get him up and dispose of the others.” Martin nodded at the men keeping the trio kneeling on the ground. 

“No! No, let go of me!” Jesus raged as the man behind him wrenched his arms up behind his back, dragging him up onto his feet. Jesus’ hair flung around his head as he thrashed against the man’s stronghold on him and his wide, wild eyes met both Rick and Daryl’s, silently begging for help as he was being pulled away. 

Rick and Daryl jumped into action, overpowering their guards by taking them by surprise. Daryl jammed his knee into his guard’s gut and then smashed his fist into the back of the man’s head, dropping him almost right away. He took back his crossbow and checked on Rick who had his gun back and was stepping over the fallen form of the other man.

“Jesus!” Rick called out as he and Daryl rushed forward, moving past the fallen form of the man who had been dragging their friend away. 

“Jesus, that’s a bit religious of you isn’t it son?” Martin laughed as he and Jesus circled each other slowly. Jesus had his hands up in a loose fighting stance as his trench coat flared out around his jeans and hair swayed as he watched his father intently. The man was moving around Jesus like a predator who had found his prey. 

“Wait, wait,” Rick threw his arm across Daryl’s chest when the man lifted his crossbow. The way they were moving there was a chance of hitting Jesus and the fire that now danced in Jesus’ eyes told Rick that they had to let him handle this, handle his past. 

“What? Why?” Daryl was confused but lowered his crossbow, eyes never leaving the father and son who were circling each other. 

“As I said, I left who I was in the past. I’m not Malcolm Whitly or Malcolm Bright anymore.” Jesus said as the leather of his gloves crinkled when he tighten and loosened his fists. 

“Don’t think like that my boy, soon everything will be back to the way it was before. Father and son, hunting and killing together!” Martin exclaimed and Jesus shook his head, his long hair flying around his face. 

“Never, I will die before that happens,” Jesus, swore and both Rick and Daryl exchanged concern glances; they both hated the idea that Jesus was willing to die right here and now. 

“So dramatic son, just like your mother was.” Martin sighed sounding very much like a disappointed father. Jesus stiffened and anger flared in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare, you don’t get to talk about any of them.” Jesus snarled and Martin threw his head back with a laugh.

“There’s my boy! That anger, that rage, that fire!” Martin shook his fists in front of him, visibly excited. Rick and Daryl both quickly lifted their weapons when Martin suddenly lunged towards Jesus. 

Jesus let out a surprised noise but lurched forward to meet Martin nonetheless. Daryl swore and Rick grunted, with the way the two were so close and tangled together now there was no way to get a clean shot on Martin without hitting Jesus. 

Rick and Daryl jolted when a single gunshot rang out and both of them raced forward, shouting Jesus’ name. They watched as Jesus stumbled back, blood painting his face and eyes blown wide as his arm lowered with his still smoking gun hanging loosely from his fingers. 

“My boy, just like I taught you,” Martin whispered, blood bubbling up from his lips as he took a stumbling step back with his hands covering his stomach and blood seeping through his fingers. 

“Dad, I,” Jesus stammered out, looking vulnerable and childlike as he watched his father collapse to the ground.

“I’m so proud of you Malcolm, so proud. My precious, prodigal son.” Martin gave Jesus a bloodied smile before his eyes closed and his body stilled. 

Jesus stood above his dead father’s body; his chest heaving, as he took deep, gasping breathes of air. Jesus’ hand trembled as he lifted his gun, aiming for his father’s head to stop him from coming back as a walker. 

Jesus swayed on his feet unsteadily and gave out a weak, pain-filled cry as he swung his gun away from his father’s body and started to collapse to the ground.

“Whoa!” Daryl darted forward, sweeping Jesus' trembling body up into his arms. 

“I can’t, fuck, I can’t!” Jesus sobbed as he tucked his face into Daryl’s vest, taking frantic gulps of air again as Daryl held him tightly. 

“We got you, Jesus, just calm down. We have you.” Daryl wasn’t the best at comforting but he tried as a gunshot rang out as Rick put a bullet in Martin’s head before turning back to the other two men. Jesus had flinched at the gunshot and clung tighter to Daryl. 

“It’s okay Jesus, we’ve got you. You’re safe.” Rick didn’t resist the urge to stroke Jesus’ long hair in what he hoped was a soothing way. 

“Just get me out of here,” Jesus’ voice was quiet.

“You got it,” Daryl said as he looked at Rick, the leader nodding firmly as they both silently promised to look after Jesus and not let his past cloud their judgment on him. After all, in the apocalypse, your past doesn’t matter anymore, its what you do now that does.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to people liking/commenting this and I actually wanted to write more, have chapter 2! Perhaps even a chapter 3!

“I’m sure you guys have a few questions,” Jesus said quietly from where he was curled up in the back seat of the car they had taken from Alexandria on this scouting mission that had gone sideways. At least they had found some supplies before all of that shit went down. He still had his father’s blood splattered over his face but he was facing the window as trees blurred past them. He had a blanket draped over his shoulders to ward off shock when things finally hit him. 

“Only if you want to talk about it,” Rick said as he glanced up in the rearview mirror to check on Jesus while Daryl resisted the urge to do the same. He was curling and uncurling his hands from where they rested on his thighs. 

“I honestly didn’t think I would ever have to explain all of this again once the outbreak began,” Jesus admitted softly as he rested his head against the window, feeling numb as the death of his father replayed in his mind over and over. 

“You don’t gotta tell us anything,” Daryl grunted, he knew how much he hated talking about his past so he wasn’t about to force Jesus to talk about his obviously horrific past. 

“My real name isn’t Paul Rovia, it’s Malcolm Whitly until I legally changed it to Malcolm Bright. When the outbreak happened and I was alone… I became someone else, a survivor, a scout; I became who I am now.” Jesus wet his lips before wincing at the tang of copper before he used a corner of the blanket to scrub his face clean of his father’s blood the best he could. Rick and Daryl stayed quiet, they knew this much from the conversation Jesus had with his father before. 

“You know…When I was a kid I adored him, I wanted to be just like him… That blinded me in a way, trusting him so completely until…” Jesus shook his head as he squeezed his eyes closed as flashes of the girl in the box appeared, of his father drugging him, of lost time. 

“I went into my dad’s workshop one night, I found, I saw… There was a girl in a box… I’m still not sure how much time passed between that, having my father drug me to forget and when I called the cops…That will never leave me, my father taunting me about that, having everyone tell me that the girl didn’t exist, finding out she did…Fuck.” Jesus clapped his hands to his face with a moan as his shoulders shook as all those emotions came rushing back from all those years ago. 

It was a different life.

“Shit man,” Daryl whispered to Rick quietly, trying not to twist around and stare at Jesus who was taking ragged breathes as he tried to calm down. 

“You were just a kid, you did nothing wrong, you called the cops to save lives and I have no doubt you did,” Rick said simply, he was remembering more and more about the Surgeon horrific case. 

“Thanks, Rick,” Jesus sighed as he closed his eyes.

“Fast forward a bunch of years, I became a profiler for the FBI and then one for the NYPD where I was forced to interact with my father again. That’s when memories I had repressed began to surface and I began to chase them.” Jesus moved his head off of the window and tugged the blanket tighter around his body as a shiver wracked his body even under all the layers he wore. 

“It didn’t turn out well, I got lost in that rabbit hole and it led to being kidnapped by a serial killer and all the fun stuff that goes with that. I was on so many medications and had night terrors every night that I barely got a few hours every night. When the outbreak hit and everything went to hell I honestly thought I would end up as a Walker, thought that without my meds I wouldn’t make it a week. Knowing my father was dead did wonders to my mental health…Funny how that works.” Jesus rushed through his explanation; leaning his head back with his eyes closed. He needed to focus on the now, focus on survival and not think about his past anymore. 

“So now you know, what is gonna happen now?” Jesus now just sound exhausted from where he was curled up in the back seat.

“What do ya mean?” Rick felt confused, he was still trying to process everything he had just been told and a grunt coming from Daryl let Rick know that he was in the same boat. 

“You’re going to tell everyone, aren’t you? You have to and then you’re all going to vote along with Hilltop and I’ll have 10 minutes to pack up and get out if I’m lucky.” Jesus’ voice was flat and defeated sounding like he had been through this many times before. 

“That’s bullshit,” Daryl said fiercely, his stomach turning at the idea of banishing Jesus, of leaving him out there alone and trapped with the ghosts of his past. 

“No one is gonna know unless you tell them. If they ask why we’re late we just ran into some Walkers is all.” Rick said firmly, also loathing the idea of leaving Jesus out to fend for himself until his luck ran out. 

“We won’t even bring it up again unless ya want ta,” Daryl promised and Rick grunted his agreement.

“…Thank you, just… Thank you.” Jesus sounded stunned as he shifted so he could curl up properly in the back seat, unknown tension lifting from his shoulders. 

“Thank ya for trusting us with that Jesus,” Rick countered and his lips quirked up when a small smile appeared on Jesus’ lips at the obvious use of his chosen name before his eyes slid shut as he gave in to sleep, clearly exhausted from the events of the day. 

“What a shit show,” Daryl exhaled as he lit up a cigarette once he was sure Jesus was fast asleep.

“You’re telling me, fuck Daryl. I was briefed on his father back in the day, it was sick and twisted what he did to those people. It doesn’t sound like he physically hurt Jesus, but fuck the mental and emotional damage he caused.” Rick shook his head and took a drag from the cigarette when offered, needing something at this moment in time. 

“Don’t matter now though, he’s still that prick who stole our truck and then somehow made our worlds bigger than ever before,” Daryl said as he exhaled the smoke through his nose, glancing back at Jesus who was still asleep. 

“If he needs help we’ll help, it’s what family does right?” Rick side-eyed Daryl who lifted the cigarette back up to his lips, watching the motion before turning his attention back to the road. 

“Damn right,” Daryl grunted as the walls of Alexandria came into view. Rick whistled and Tara opened the gate with the familiar creaking of metal. Rick was just grateful it was still day, he hated unloading in the dark as he pulled into the usual place they parked this car.

“Jesus, hey, wake up we’re back.” Daryl twisted around in his seat and shook the longhaired man’s knee, not stopping until Jesus’ eyes flew open. His whole body was tense and his teeth gritted but he soon relaxed when wild eyes settled on Daryl and then Rick.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m awake.” Jesus scrubbed his face with his hands before he opened the door and clamoured out as both Rick and Daryl followed suit. 

“Hey, we got this. Head to my place and take a shower ya?” Daryl grunted as Jesus swayed a bit on his feet as he went to help unload the car.

“…Yeah, okay, thank you, guys… Thanks.” Jesus sent them a small smile before he turned on his heels and headed towards Daryl's house in Alexandria, where he usually crashed when visiting. 

“Where’s he going?” Denise asked curiously as she came to poke around what they found on their run. 

“Ran into a herd of Walker’s, it got messy and he wanted to take a shower to get rid of the stench,” Rick said easily as he picked up a crate from the trunk, Daryl grunting his agreement. 

“I feel that,” Denise hummed as she took Rick for his word. 

“We’re gonna have to keep an eye on him, sounds like he was real messed up before all of this and seeing his father again and killing him may send him spiralling,” Rick muttered to Daryl lowly when the two were alone, stacking the crates.

“No shit,” Daryl grunted and Rick smirked he knew Daryl well enough to know what those words meant. Jesus would be in good hands with the two of them and they would be damned if they let Jesus fall prey to the ghosts of his past.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Paul is singing is Tom Payne’s part of the song ‘Hold On’ by Final Child, which is a band, his fiancée is the lead singer for.

“Come on, we finished unloading everything. Let’s see how Jesus is doing.” Rick clapped Daryl on the shoulder as the two left one of the storehouses they had scattered throughout Alexandria. 

“He should be out of the shower by now, we can bring him to my place for dinner with everyone. He shouldn’t be alone tonight, not after everything.” Rick said lowly as he and Daryl entered Daryl’s place, not expecting to still hear the shower running. 

“He’s still in there? Don’t think he’s trying to drown huh?” Daryl said slowly as he looked over at Rick and a moment passed before the two were bolting up the staircase. Daryl was flinging open the bathroom door before freezing in his tracks while Rick made a wounded noise in the back of his throat.

Paul was sitting in the bathtub completely naked under the spray of water that no doubt had long since gone cold. His arms were wrapped around his knees and his forehead resting against the tops of them. His hair was soaking and draped around his face like a shield as he took shuddering, gasping breaths. 

“Oh Paul, we’re here, we’ve got you.” Rick crooned in a voice he usually saved for when Carl or Judith got upset as he approached the tub with slow movements. Rick shut off the showerhead and knelt next to the tub, Daryl grabbed a towel off the rack and dropped it around Paul’s bare shoulders.

“I’m sorry, God I don’t know what is happening to me. I haven’t had an attack since this new world began,” Paul lifted his head up to look at Rick with blown wide eyes, shifting his fingers to clutch at the edges of the towel Daryl gave him. 

“After what happened today, reliving it as you told us about your past. It’s enough to make anyone a bit unstable.” Rick said in the tone he used when consoling an upset witness back in his days as a cop. 

“A bit unstable,” Paul let out a strangled laugh as he ducked his head again, letting out a loud exhale of breath. “That’s an understatement.”

“Come on, let’s get you dry and into some fresh clothes. Then if you’re feeling up to it we were thinking you could come to my place for some grub. You know Judith and Carl love it when you come to visit.” Rick took a smaller towel Daryl handed to him and gently rubbed it over Paul’s long hair, earning a snicker from the other man.

“I think you, Grimes, only like me for my hair,” Paul teased sounding like his usual self again. 

“It’s definitely a plus,” Rick teased back and got a half-hearted smile from the soaked man. 

“We’ll wait for ya downstairs, holler if you need help.” Daryl offered up.

“Thank you, both of you,” Paul said quietly before the two men left the bathroom.

“Think he’s gonna be okay?” Daryl asked quietly as the two lounged in the living room, waiting for Paul to finish dressing.

“It may take some time and a few nightmares along the way but I think he’ll make it. He’s strong, stronger than either of us gave him credit for.” Rick commented and Daryl hummed before the two fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Minutes later Paul was coming down the stairs into the living room in fresh cargo pants and a black shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows in his usual style. His hair was half dry from where it hung loosely around his shoulders and he gave the two another half-smile. 

“Let’s go get some food, I’m starving,” Paul said as the older men rose from the couch, looking pleased in their own styles at the fact Paul was agreeing to come to Rick’s place. 

It was a quiet walk to the Grimes’ home, a short one at that as Daryl’s place was only a street down from the place. The moment the doors opened that quiet was broken by the mixture of voices and laughter. Paul’s shoulders relaxed a bit when the others in the house called out their greetings to the trio.

Rick walking off to check in on his kids while Daryl went to grab some food before he got sidetracked by Tara who slugged him in the shoulder as she talked. Paul found himself smiling at the familiar sights before him as he sank down onto an empty seat in the living room. 

“Hey, Paul!” Carl smiled at the longhaired man as he balanced Judith on his hip. 

“Hey, Carl, how are you and Judith doing?” Paul lit up at the sight of the Grimes kid’s, as he tended to do; he was always weak for children even back in New York. 

“We’re good, Judy here has been making grabby hands at you since you came in with Dad. Think you can take her a bit?” Carl looked hopeful as Judith made grabby hands at Paul just like Carl had said she had been doing. 

“I think I can take her off of your hands for a bit,” Paul lifted his arms and laughed when Carl settled her into his offered arms and Judith instantly curled her small fingers around Paul’s long hair. 

“You’re a lifesaver, I’ll grab you some food okay?” Carl looked pleased with how taken Judith was with Paul.

“Thanks, Carl,” Paul said with a small smile as he watched the teen bounce out of the room. 

“Hi there sunshine,” Paul cooed down at Judith as he adjusted his hold on the small girl. Judith grinned up at him and one of her hands patted his beard. 

“I used to have a bird named sunshine, you remind me of her in some ways. I think she would be honoured if you carried on her name.” Paul smiled sadly for a moment before he rose to his feet to lightly bounce Judith who was crinkling up her nose in a telltale sign that she was about to cry. 

“Hey now sunshine, don’t cry, there’s no reason to cry.” Paul crooned before He lightly cleared his throat and began to softly sing under his breath.

“Hold onto something, hold onto me, hold on to things that you can not believe.” Paul swayed as he sang, not taking his eyes off of Judith. Judith’s face relaxed slowly as he sang to her. 

“Hold onto something, hold onto something, hold onto something,” Paul hummed the final few words as he tucked a fluff of hair off of Judith’s forehead with a tender smile. Judith was staring up at him with drowsy eyes and a content smile on her little face. 

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Rick whispered making Paul startle slightly as he looked up to see he had an audience. Most of the house had been watching and listening, but seeing that he was caught they respectively went back to their conversations minus Rick, Daryl and Carl who had inched closer. 

“Yeah, when we were younger my little sister would have these… Nightmares I guess you could say and I usually had to sing to get her to sleep.” Paul admitted something he hadn’t thought about in years as he sat back onto the couch and cradled Judith to his chest as she yawned cutely and pressed her face into Paul’s hair, a few of her fingers tangled in his beard. 

“You were a big brother, that makes sense.” Carl murmured as he sat on the other side of Paul and stroked his sister’s pudgy cheek with a fond smile. 

“Does it?” Paul asked curiously, blinking at Rick when the teen leaned his head against his shoulder to be more comfortable and to watch Judith sleep. 

“Yeah, you always help everyone out. You take care of Hilltop and now us, you’re such a big brother.” Carl stated like he wasn’t one as well but something warm settled in Paul’s chest.

“Thanks, kid,” Paul whispered as he closed his eyes remembering Ainsley and his mother’s faces and closely behind Gil’s, Jackie’s, Dani’s, JT’s and Edrisa’s. Instead of feeling a stabbing pain he just felt warm, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You’re not alone Paul, not with us around,” Rick said as he placed his hand on Paul’s knee.

“Won’t be letting you run off alone anymore, you may be like a ninja but that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone anymore,” Daryl added his own comment in his own gruff way that made Paul smile. He understood the sentiment and the worry they held for him now. 

“I like the sound of that,” Paul admitted, he hadn’t been a apart of a team, of a family since New York and he very badly wanted to become apart of this one in Alexandria and it helped that he now knew they all wanted him to be apart of it as well. He would still go back to Hilltop to help those living there, he would aid Gregory when or if the need arrived but he knew in his heart that Alexandria was his home, like New York had been all those years ago.


	4. Chapter 4

“So what do you think?” Carl asked Paul, excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet as Paul tapped his fingers against his chin thoughtfully.

“I don’t know, what does your dad think about this?” Paul said slowly as he weighed the pros and cons of what Carl had proposed. 

“I think it’s a good idea,” Rick spoke up making Paul twist his torso around and something settled in his chest at the sight of Rick standing there with Judith carefully balanced on his hip. The little girl began to babble happily when she spotted Paul and her brother as Rick just smiled and began to bounce around to calm her. 

“See! Come on Paul, I’m a good learner!” Carl pleaded and Paul couldn’t help but smile. 

“You Grimes I swear,” Paul said good-naturedly. “Fine, I’ll teach you how to be a ‘ninja’ as you call it.”

“Yes! Thanks, Paul!” Carl cheered and Paul couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the teenager and the fond smile Rick was now wearing at the sight and somehow he felt like he fit, in a way he hadn’t felt since he and the NYPD team began to get into their groove properly. 

“You can use the clearing down the road, Daryl’s been using it as target practice,” Rick suggested.

“Sounds perfect, don’t worry Rick I’ll make sure he comes back with all limbs intact,” Paul teased and Rick chuckled as Carl rolled his eyes.

“I know you will Jesus, oh and if you see an unfamiliar face around today don’t be worried. He’s a newcomer that was found on a supply run and we are seeing if he will be a good fit or not.” Rick gave a heads up and Paul hummed, he completely understood what it was like to see if people were good fits for a community. 

“Thanks for the heads up, we’ll keep an eye out,” Paul said as he started to search around for a hair tie, he usually kept one on his wrist but it was missing and he couldn’t train if his hair kept falling in his face. He was fine with it during a fight but if he was going to be training he wanted it out of his face. 

“Oy, Paul you lose something?” Daryl came lumbering into the living room, holding up a familiar hair tie.

“You’re a lifesaver, Daryl, thanks!” Paul brightened up as he took the hair tie and he twisted his hair up into his usual topknot. He didn’t notice the way the two men’s eyes tracked his movements and then down his exposed neck.

“We’ll be back before the sun sets,” Paul promised as he double-checked his belts and knives before pulling on his leather gloves as he walked towards the door where Carl was waiting. 

“Be safe and have fun!” Rick called out and Paul flashed a smile over his shoulder as the two left the Grimes house and towards the clearing Rick suggested. 

“Knives are not the same as pointing a gun and shooting. Knives require skill and precision, they are both a close range and long-range weapon. I began using them when ammo was running low at Hilltop and let the other’s use them.” Paul began to explain as he stood across from Carl, pulling his knives out of their sheaths and twisting the blades around before flipping one to hand it to Carl. 

Carl took the knife with reverence, as he knew that Paul kept them on his body at all times and he had seen him completely lethal with them. Carl tested the weight of the knife and swung it carefully while Paul watched with his arms crossed and a smile tugging at his lips.

“Knives are always good for backup, bullets run out but knives always stay sharp and will always help you out in a pinch,” Paul explained as he slipped out another knife and took up a stance a few feet away from Carl taking a calming breath. 

“Makes sense,” Carl agreed before pausing to watch as Paul moved. His eyes were firm with concentration and his movements, swift and fluid. His arms and legs moved together in well-practiced movements and the knife shone in the setting sun, Carl wondered if Paul had ever truly shown his true skills. He had never seen him in a full-on fight, he had seen the man take out walkers, sneak around and use his knives however he had never seen him in a fight with someone who could challenge him. Carl somehow knew that whomever Paul would fight would not be coming out winning. 

Paul’s movements slowed and he let out a puff of air before turning to Carl with a small smile on his lips.

“What did you see while I was moving?” Paul inquired as he slipped his knives away, including the one he had given Carl. 

“You were like water, always in motion and it was like the knife was apart of you,” Carl blurted out before he closed his mouth and looked away shyly. 

“You’re right, when you’re fighting in close combat you always need to be moving. You stand still and you get hit. The knife needs to be an extension of your own body, treat it as such and you will never fail to hit your target.” Paul advised as he placed his hands on his hips as he took in the targets Daryl had set up and noted the placement of the slowly setting sun. 

“Oh, hey that must be the new guy,” Carls spoke up, looking over Paul’s shoulder. Paul turned, mustering up a smile but it froze on his face when his eyes landed on the man’s face. 

“Carl, I need you to get out of here now,” Paul said slowly, lowly as his fingers inched towards his knives. 

“What?” Carl asked, eyebrows furrowing up in confusion. 

“Now, now, that’s no way to greet an old friend.” John Watkins grinned.


	5. Chapter 5

“Carl, get out of here now,” Paul repeated as his heart hammered in his ears and he noticed that Carl was starting to edge away. 

“Now, now, none of that boy.” John tsked as he cocked a gun as he aimed it towards the teen who went still at the threat. 

“Let him go, John,” Paul said slowly switching into his old role as a profiler, doing his best to push flashbacks of the last time the two had been face to face. 

“Now why would I do that?” John tipped his head to the side as he stared intently at Paul. 

“It’s not him you want John, it’s me, it’s always been me right?” Paul said slowly, holding his arm out to the side in an attempt of shielding Carl. 

“Oh little Malcolm, it’s been so long and you’ve come so far from that night in the basement.” John’s lips twisted up in a manic smile that sent chills down Paul’s back. 

“What do you mean?” Paul pressed, keeping John’s attention on him and away from Carl. 

“Do you remember what I told you about how you have to pass your trials as I did with my grandfather?” John reminded and Paul shuddered absently as that memory flashed through his mind. 

“You mean when you chased my mother and sister with an axe?” Paul snapped, the rage he had felt from that night rearing up in his chest. 

“If you had allowed me to do my work then, things would have played out for the two of us very differently.” John huffed, his eyes shining in anger and Paul wanted nothing more than to grab Carl and get the hell away from John Watkins. 

“However that’s all in the past now! You have finally completed them and your father! Oh your father, I am so proud of you for the way you gutted him. I bet he was too.” A large smile crept its way onto John’s face and Paul winced back at the reminder of what had happened a mere few days ago. Suddenly it all clicked and Paul let out a soft exhale of breath.

“You were following him, you were using him to find me,” Paul said in realization and John’s smile widened.

“The hair, beard and new name did throw me for a bit. Such a resourceful boy you are little Malcolm. I’m touched you used Paul as your name as I did once upon a time.” John crooned sounding like a proud father and it made Paul wince. Paul was doing his best not to look at Carl, not wanting to see the confusion and fear on the teen’s face. 

“What exactly do you want with me, John?” Paul asked slowly, keeping John set firmly in his sights, body tense in case the man made a move to fire at Carl. 

“What I’ve always wanted little Malcolm and now that you have suffered through your trials you are ready for the next step in your transformation,” John explained and Paul nodded to himself.

“That’s what I thought,” Paul sighed and then he was moving. He latched onto John’s wrist and shoved it high in the air, a gunshot going off and Paul struggled to keep John in place.

“Carl, run!” Paul shouted and he saw Carl blur past him as he bolted down the road and something relaxed at seeing Carl beyond John’s range. 

“Stubborn boy, don’t worry I’ll break you of that soon enough,” Jon grunted as he locked his other arm around Paul’s throat and the longhaired man jerked when a far too familiar smelling cloth was pressed against his mouth and nose. Paul’s panic rose, almost choking on it as he did his best to keep to not to inhale the chloroform. John grunted and pressed the cloth harder and Paul soon had no choice but to breathe. 

Paul’s world spun around him as his vision began to fade and heaviness settled in his body. He sagged against John and shuddered when John curled his arms around him and held him in an embrace with his cheek pressed against Paul’s head.

“We’re going to have so much fun together little Malcolm, after all this time.” John crooned and that was what sent Paul spiraling into darkness. 

~~/~~

Rick and Daryl startled, hands going to their weapons when the front door suddenly flew open and Carl came running in, panic and shock clear on his face.

“Carl? What’s wrong?” Rick was glad Judith was off with Michonne at the moment as he hurried over to his son, eyes scanning for wounds. 

“It was that newcomer!” Carl spoke in a rushed tone, his words blurring together, not making any sense to the two men. 

“Carl, Carl, just breathe and tell us what happened. Where’s Paul?” Daryl placed his hands on Carl’s shoulders and blinked taken back when Carl gripped his wrists and looked up at him with panic clear in his eyes. 

“The newcomer knows Paul! He almost shot me and started rambling about how Paul passed his trials when he killed his father and was ready to join him! You have to help him!” Carl explained in the same rush, but his words made more sense and a cold chill settled over Daryl and Rick. 

“Shit! Carl stay here!” Rick ordered as he slung his holster onto his hips while Daryl snatched up his crossbow and the two men rushed from the house, heading towards the clearing. Their feet pounded against the dirt as their hearts pounded in their chests as they skidded into the clearing.

“Shit, no one is here!” Daryl swore before he growled when he noticed Paul’s knives lying carelessly on the ground and a mess of footprints showing there had been a fight, a struggle.

“They couldn’t have gotten far, they have to be in Alexandria someplace. Gather the others and we will start our search, we will find him Daryl and we will ruin the man who took him.” Rick fell back into his determined leader role, his eyes burning with fire and Daryl felt the same as the other man. 

~~/~~

Paul let out a long moan as his senses rushed back at him almost all at once. Paul let his eyes flutter open and he squinted into the darkness that surrounded him. He felt uneven, dirt of an unfinished floor below him; he dug his fingers into the dirt and shakily pushed himself up. Paul stilled when a rattle of chains reached his ears and he stared in mounting horror at the sight of metal shackles around his wrists. 

“No,” Paul whispered as his vision doubled and he was brought back to the moment he woke up when John first took him. 

“Please no, not again,” Paul whispered as he sat up and looked down at himself. His usual clothes were gone and instead, he was in a pale blue dress shirt and black dress pants and his feet were bare. 

“Why?” Paul didn’t understand and his confusion and horror mounted when he lifted his head, his head that had felt lighter than it had in a while and he caught sight of a mirror on the wall in front of him. His breath caught in his throat and a sob bubbled up in his throat.

Malcolm Bright stared back at him from the reflection, his hair was short and his beard was missing. John had taken away Paul Rovia and brought Malcolm Bright back, brought Malcolm back to that night in the cellar under his family home. 

Malcolm winced back violently and his chains rattled as the door next to the mirror swung open and John stepped over the threshold. 

“Shall we begin little Malcolm? After all, you have much to learn,” John crooned as he smiled down at Malcolm and the defeated look he was already sporting and the door clicked shut behind the man, trapping Malcolm in his horrific past.


	6. Chapter 6

Malcolm scurried away from John the best he could with being chained up. He tugged uselessly against the shackles when they didn't let him move any further.

"You don't have to be afraid little Malcolm, you're undergoing a transformation given by God himself and I have been chosen to guide you through it." John stepped closer until Malcolm's shackled legs were lying directly between John's feet.

"A transformation? A transformation into what? A killer? Have you taken a look at the new world we live in? Everyone is a killer in one way or another," Malcolm's hands began to shake in the metal shackles as he spoke. He had to try and figure some way to escape; he had to make sure to keep John's attention on him so the others would be safe.

"I will admit this outbreak helped aid your transformation. It has made you used to killing and I bet you felt relieved the moment you killed your first un-dead. You justified it as survival and that they were already dead and you were just giving them mercy." John plucked words out of Malcolm's mind from when this first began all those years ago. 

Malcolm's hands shook harder and he had to make them into tight fists to stop them from rattling the chains and drawing attention to them. He could still sometimes feel the phantom pain from the last time John Watkins had him chained up in a basement. 

"I myself am very thankful for the un-dead, they helped me learn many things about the human body and nowadays without proper health care or hospitals we have to take care of our bodies. Broken bones and stab wounds are not so easily healed anymore, however, there are other ways to inflict pain," John trailed off as he reached down and placed his hand against Malcolm's right shoulder and pressed.

Malcolm screamed as burning hot pain erupted from his shoulder and he gasped desperately for air when John released his hold.

"Dislocations and sprains can cause just as much pain if done correctly," John finished his thought as he drank in the pained look that painted Malcolm's face and the way his newly shortened hair fell messily over his paling face.

"What are you going to gain from doing this, I rejected you back then and I will reject you now," Malcolm gasped out before writhing with pain as John pushed hard against his dislocated shoulder.

"It's cute you think you have a choice little Malcolm." John petted Malcolm's hair, as one would do for an animal. Malcolm pulled away from the touch with a growl on his tongue; he didn't want this man anywhere near him.

"Behave or you'll regret it," John warned as he gripped Malcolm's hair and pulled the man up onto his knees properly almost savouring the groans of pain Malcolm made.

"Doubt it, you can do whatever you want to me, but I won't accept you." Malcolm spat on John's face before yelping and collapsing sideways onto the floor when John punched him across the face.

"You always did need some motivation little Malcolm. It looks like I'll have to hunt down that kid you were trying to protect." John mused as he knelt for the bolt on the floor that held the ends of the chains connected to Malcolm's wrist shackles.

‘So we're still in Alexandria,’ Malcolm thought as he spat a mouthful of blood into the dirt as he pushed himself upright, back onto his knees. He felt a flare of hope light up within him for the first time since he woke up in the basement, woke up in his past.

"Don't even think about trying to escape, if you do I'll make sure your little friend pays for it," John warned as he lifted the chains to hook then through a bolt on the wall above Malcolm's head. Malcolm screamed as his arms were wrenched up above his head and his vision whited out for a moment or two.

"I'll see you soon little Malcolm," John petted Malcolm's hair again before he rose and left the room, locking the door with an almost deafening click. 

Malcolm's head lolled to the side and he caught sight of his reflection in the dusty mirror across from him. Malcolm let out a hysterical laugh when he saw that he not only looked just bloody and beaten he had been all those years ago but he also looked like John's addicts that he strung up before crushing them. John was going to try and cleanse him of his ethics and morals, what little Malcolm had left after all these years and when he did that Malcolm knew he would break. Malcolm shivered in the sticky heat of the dark basement and he just had to hope that his ploy worked. That by sending John out into Alexandria to find Carl that Rick and Daryl would catch John and find him before Paul Rovia dissolved into Malcolm Whitly, his father’s prodigal son completely just like John wanted.

~~/~~

"I'm coming with you," Carl said firmly to his father and Daryl. His hands were white-knuckled as he held onto Paul's knives like a lifeline.

"Carl," Rick started slowly.

"No! I'm the reason that guy got him; he stayed behind to protect me! I'm coming with you to find him," Carl interrupted his father firmly.

"Stick close to us," Rick said simply as he checked the chamber of his Colt python. Carl nodded firmly and adjusted his hold on Paul's knife, the same one the older man had handed to him mere hours earlier. Night had fallen on Alexandria but that didn't stop them all from searching. Torches cast shadows around the trio, mingling and dancing in the low wind of the night. The three were silent and head’s on the swivel, only shaking their heads in reply when they passed another search party.

“It has to be an empty house near the clearing. Someone must have come running when they heard the gunshot go off,” Carl said as he steered Rick and Daryl down the street towards the clearing after they cleared the area surrounding the Grimes house. 

“Did the man who took Paul say anything else, did Paul say anything that could help us find them?” Daryl asked Carl as he lifted his torch up over the mess of footprint in the clearing again, anger rolling through his veins at the sight as it did the first time he saw it. 

“They kept talking about… A basement, he may have taken Paul into the basement of a house here.” Carl said as his brow furrowed as he thought back to the words that were exchanged mere hours ago. 

“There a few empty houses down that way, we’ll check them one by one.” Daryl turned away from the site of Paul’s kidnapping and stalked down the road that hopefully would lead them to Paul and the man who took him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo Square Filled: Grabbed By The Chin

Malcolm’s head jerked up startled out of his spiraling thoughts when the door to his prison swung open. Malcolm’s heart dropped and fear coiled in his chest at the sight of John walking in with Carl slung over his shoulder. 

“Don’t touch him!” Malcolm hissed as he jerked against the chains before gasping as his vision whited out for a moment thanks to the pain of his dislocated shoulder. 

“I won’t need to, as long as you do what I tell you too like a good little boy,” John reminded as he dumped the teen’s limp body onto the dirt floor and Malcolm swallowed hard at sight of Carl lying there unprotected. How the hell had John gotten back Rick and Daryl and Malcolm went cold at the thought that John had killed one or both of them. 

“What do you want with me, John?” Malcolm whispered, sounding as defeated as he was beginning to feel. He had to protect Carl; he couldn’t let John hurt him. 

“I want you to accept your place! Accept your mission and together we will cleanse this planet as God intended!” John stepped over Carl to grab Malcolm’s chin and forced Malcolm’s face up. Malcolm refused to look away from the mad man; he would not show weakness even if he felt it. 

“If I do, if I willingly go with you… Will you leave these people alone?” Malcolm needed to know all his options, his stomach twisted at the thought of leaving with John, but to keep the people he cared about safe he would do it. 

“You are starting to see what you were meant for little Malcolm. I swear on the Father and Son that if you leave with me then this community and all the people inside will be left alone.” A wide, victorious smile spread over John’s lips as he saw the way Malcolm’s body slumped in defeat and his head hung down. 

“I will leave with you then John… I will accept my mission from God, from you.” Malcolm whispered in defeat, fighting back a wince when John cooed at him as he stroked his hair. 

“I knew you would come around to my way of thinking little Malcolm, you just needed a little push in the right direction.” John reached up and unlocked Malcolm’s wrists from the cuffs and Malcolm cried out as his arms fell and his dislocated shoulder burned blindly hot once again. 

“We’ll have to wait until we have gotten out of Alexandria before I can set your shoulder little Malcolm. Until then, think of it as a reminder of your mission and your devotion.” John said as he gripped Malcolm’s chin again and used that hold to force Malcolm up to his feet. Malcolm clutched his hurt arm as he shakily stood up and his eyes darted over to Carl who was still lying on the floor unconscious. 

“Let me check on him if he’s hurt there is no way that we will be getting out of Alexandria alive.” Malcolm pleaded and his heart stalled for a moment when John gave him a thoughtful look.

“Make it quick little Malcolm,” John grunted and released his hold on Malcolm’s chin. Malcolm caught himself before he collapsed on the floor; he managed to stumble over to Carl before his knees gave out on him. Malcolm let out a breath of relief when he pressed his fingers to Carl’s neck and felt his pulse and it was strong and steady. 

“Thank God,” Malcolm let out a breath as he hung his head in relief that Carl was going to be fine. Malcolm blinked slowly as a glint of metal caught his eye and he fought back a smile when he discreetly slipped one of his knives out of Carl’s waistband, the teen had somehow hidden it from John. Malcolm shifted until he was standing upright and he settled into a protective crouched position. 

“What exactly do you think you’re doing little Malcolm?” John hissed when he saw the stance Malcolm was taking over Carl. 

“Something I should have done all those years ago, I should have killed you instead of locking you in that box.” Malcolm snarled as he brought the knife up in a practiced stance. 

“You weren’t capable of that back then and now even less.” John laughed at the way Malcolm was glaring at him with such anger. 

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” Malcolm growled, anger was filling him to the brim and he wanted nothing more than to gut this man and end this once and for all. 

Malcolm flipped the knife in his hand, taking an offensive position now. He hated killing living people but needs must and all that. Malcolm gasped as his body jolted when a loud gunshot rang out in the small basement. Malcolm’s eyes widened as John dropped to the floor with a hole in his forehead. 

“Rick! Daryl!” Malcolm gasped at the sight of the two men standing in the doorway of the basement, Rick holding his still smoking Colt Python. 

“You both okay?” Rick’s eyes darted over the two while Daryl’s eyes widened at the sight of Paul missing his beard and hair. 

“Much better now, Carl’s still unconscious I think.” Malcolm swayed on his feet as the adrenaline fled his system and he felt unsteady on his feet and his vision began to gray at the edges. 

“Whoa, I got you, Paul.” Daryl was at Malcolm’s side and the man blinked in confusion when did Daryl move?

“You’re safe now, we ain’t gonna let anyone hurt ya anymore,” Daryl promised, his accent washing over Malcolm in a soothing, relaxing way and that was all his body needed to shut down and Malcolm fell into darkness with the knowledge that Rick and Daryl were there to catch him.


	8. Final Chapter!

Paul came back to awareness in waves, each time a little more of the world bled into his consciousness. Low throbbing pain in his shoulder was a constant each time and pressure on at least one of his hands was another, but that was the good kind of pressure. At least that was what Paul’s sluggish mind figured and Paul hoped that was right. 

Paul became more aware of his body and the world with a calloused hand in his and a warm sheet tucked up around his chest. Paul moaned softly as he forced his eyes to open, squinting into the sunlight that lit up the room he was in. 

“-ul, Paul, can you hear me?” Daryl’s rough, accented voice cut through the fog that had settled over Paul’s mind like a layer of frost. 

“Come on Paul, we wanna make sure you’re okay.” Rick’s voice was coming from the other side of the room and Paul blinked a few times as the two men swam into focus. 

“Hey,” Paul’s voice was raspy and his throat ached with disuse and hopefully not from screaming from a night terror.

“How are ya feeling?” Daryl asked, voice soft as Rick rose from his chair to grab a bottle of water. Paul gratefully sipped from it when the other man held it up to his mouth. 

“Sore, shoulder hurts… Wait! Carl! Is he okay? What happened?” Paul’s memories caught up with him and panic filled his veins, but it calmed when Daryl squeezed his hand. Paul blinked at how fast his panic had left him at the simple touch. If he had been touch starved back in New York, it had nothing on what he was now in this New World. 

“He’s fine, you protected him long enough for us to track John back to the house he had been using,” Rick replied, something unexplainable in his eyes as he looked at Paul as he sat back in the chair next to the bed.

“Good, that’s good… When I saw Carl I had thought the worst.” Paul admitted as he sank back into the pillow behind him, feeling the quick burst of adrenalin fading now that he was reassured that Carl was safe leaving him feeling the ache in his shoulder.

“It was Carl’s idea when he spotted that bastard tailing us, he let himself get taken so we could follow him to you,” Daryl explained he had hated the idea as much as Rick but they knew it was their best shot of finding Paul quick enough. 

“Yeah, that’s never allowed to happen again,” Paul grumbled and Rick cracked a smile feeling glad that Paul himself enough to feel protective of his kids as he usually did. 

“Are you okay? Doc set your shoulder, you may have to wear a sling for a few days when you feel up to getting out of bed, but other than that physically you’re fine.” Daryl said cautiously. 

“You mean you want to know how I’m doing emotionally?” Paul knew dancing around a subject when he saw it and winced allowing his face to shut down for a moment when he lifted his good hand up to run through his long hair, but coming in contact with his shorter hair. 

“He dragged me back into my past in a way even my encounter with my father didn’t manage. The only way I got past the trauma of the first time was thanks to my family back in New York, but… They’re gone now, that I know for sure…” Paul swallowed heavily as he forced back the images of the last times he saw his team, his mother, his sister, everyone. 

“We know we can’t and won’t ever be able to replace your family, but we all will be here when you need us. You’re part of our family now Paul.” Rick took Paul’s free hand in his so both he and Daryl were holding one of the man’s hands. 

“…Thank you, both of you… That means a lot to me, more than you could imagine…I think… I think my family from New York would have really loved you two, loved all of you.” Paul’s voice thick was emotion as he tightened his fingers around Rick and Daryl’s. 

“I have no doubts we would have loved them as well,” Daryl promised and Paul found himself giving a genuine smile at the two men. 

“Hey is Paul awake yet?” Carl’s head poked into the bedroom and a wide smirk appeared on his lips when he saw the three men holding hands.

“Hey Carl, sorry our training lesson got cut short,” Paul offered up before he laughed when Carl hurried into the room and gave him a gentle hug, relief evident on his face. 

“Don’t even worry about that! I’m just glad you’re okay!” Carl exclaimed. 

“Judy is going to be upset her favourite plaything is short now,” Carl flicked a strand of Paul’s hair out of the older man’s face with a snicker.

“Well I better get on growing it back then,” Paul chuckled fondly at the thought of the youngest Grimes who would no doubt pout at the lack of long hair to play with. 

“I’m going to go tell the other’s you’re okay,” Carl said as he left the room, leaving the three men alone. 

“If you want, there is a place here in Alexandria for you… If you want it.” Rick was hesitant to let Paul out of his sights for a while and he knew Daryl felt the same. 

“…I think I’d like that… I’ll need to check on Hilltop every so often, but having a… Home again would be nice.” Paul ducked his head shyly, warmth bubbling in his chest at the offer. 

“Well then, let me say it first… Welcome home, Paul.” Daryl said and Paul beamed at the two, feeling more like himself in a long while. He finally felt like he had found a place in this New World where being Paul Rovia and Malcolm Bright meant being the same person for once and Paul finally felt like he himself ha comes to terms with that fact and something in his very soul felt like it had settled in a way he had never felt before. 

With his hands in Rick and Daryl’s and the two men at his side, the future had never looked so bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for sticking with this fic! I hope you enjoyed it! At this time, I have written all the ideas I’ve had for this crossover so this sadly the last chapter! Thank you for reading and your wonderful comments!


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